I don't give a shit about The Eagles. They can do what they want to do. I have my own life to live.
Well, well ... / I don't want to write about money. And I don't want to write about the economy. I ain't interested in no economy, like those sick conservatives, animals. It's all they care about. They're not interested in flowers. They're not interested in sunsets. They ain't got no time for human feelings. All they know is the economy, like it's the most important thing in the universe. 'Ha!' And they can't even get that right! That's the funny thing. Massive debt, crap jobs. I don't have to explain this to anyone with intelligence.
So, let's move on, yeah?
We're gonna find out, pretty mama, what turns on your lights. You got your demons. You got desires. Well, I got a few of my own.
Yeah, yeah ... / I'm writing in the night again. The night time is the right time. I'll be putting Apollo on in the minute. I'll be listening to it by myself, I don't care. One with the cosmos on a night like this? I'm used to it.
Tomorrow/today, I'm going to play my guitar. I might put some new strings on. I might try to record my songs. / I've got to keep going. One day, I'll be gone. Where's Mikey?! You will say. But I won't be here.
I'm fed up, man. / I just want some peace ... people bothering me, think they know it all, they got the answer, the key, but there wasn't even a question, they love mystery, their own mystery, which they've got to add to mine, just one sane person who ain't phoney, what a treat that would be, a quiet, civilized one, no nonsense, clarity!
The sickness of the world, it comes to me, I attract it, I am ... Spartacus! I am Michael Fowke! 'I am Michael Fowke!' Shut up, Voice. You are a nutcase, son. 'Well, yeah, I work for you, don't I?' Oh, dear reader(s), you don't have to be mad to work on this blog, but it certainly helps. I've had it all, the sewer of the internet comes my way.
What am I going on about? It's late. I'm deranged. Imagine if I had a hedge fund. 'Ha!' How long would it last? Who would invest? So, please. No nonsense, no insanity. I'm just a song and dance man. Let me sing for you, please!
Here's the news: Mad people believe anything they want. As long as they are happy, I won't interfere.
Good night, friend(s).
Well, well ... / I don't want to write about money. And I don't want to write about the economy. I ain't interested in no economy, like those sick conservatives, animals. It's all they care about. They're not interested in flowers. They're not interested in sunsets. They ain't got no time for human feelings. All they know is the economy, like it's the most important thing in the universe. 'Ha!' And they can't even get that right! That's the funny thing. Massive debt, crap jobs. I don't have to explain this to anyone with intelligence.
So, let's move on, yeah?
We're gonna find out, pretty mama, what turns on your lights. You got your demons. You got desires. Well, I got a few of my own.
Yeah, yeah ... / I'm writing in the night again. The night time is the right time. I'll be putting Apollo on in the minute. I'll be listening to it by myself, I don't care. One with the cosmos on a night like this? I'm used to it.
Tomorrow/today, I'm going to play my guitar. I might put some new strings on. I might try to record my songs. / I've got to keep going. One day, I'll be gone. Where's Mikey?! You will say. But I won't be here.
I'm fed up, man. / I just want some peace ... people bothering me, think they know it all, they got the answer, the key, but there wasn't even a question, they love mystery, their own mystery, which they've got to add to mine, just one sane person who ain't phoney, what a treat that would be, a quiet, civilized one, no nonsense, clarity!
The sickness of the world, it comes to me, I attract it, I am ... Spartacus! I am Michael Fowke! 'I am Michael Fowke!' Shut up, Voice. You are a nutcase, son. 'Well, yeah, I work for you, don't I?' Oh, dear reader(s), you don't have to be mad to work on this blog, but it certainly helps. I've had it all, the sewer of the internet comes my way.
What am I going on about? It's late. I'm deranged. Imagine if I had a hedge fund. 'Ha!' How long would it last? Who would invest? So, please. No nonsense, no insanity. I'm just a song and dance man. Let me sing for you, please!
Here's the news: Mad people believe anything they want. As long as they are happy, I won't interfere.
Good night, friend(s).
